


Not Yours

by skywalkersamidala



Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: (with a twist), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19129447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkersamidala/pseuds/skywalkersamidala
Summary: Giuliano is mad at his family and enlists Francesco to be his fake fiancé to piss them off. Lorenzo is suffering because he’s in love with Francesco and doesn’t know the engagement is fake, Francesco is suffering because Giuliano is driving him up the wall and also he might accidentally be starting to feel some things for Lorenzo, and Giuliano is having the time of his life trolling everyone. Except he's annoyed that his family seems to have happily adopted Francesco rather than being mad about their supposed engagement as he’d intended.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently this is my 50th fic here on ao3 and I'm very happy this fic gets that honor because I had a total blast with it and I can only hope you'll have half as much fun reading it as I did writing it hahaha
> 
> Note: it's Francesco and Giuliano who are fake dating, but this IS a Francesco/Lorenzo fic. Just wanna make that absolutely clear so that no Francesco/Giuliano shippers go into this with false expectations and end up disappointed lmfao

“Would it kill you to be more like Lorenzo for a change?” Giuliano mimicked his mother under his breath as he stormed out of the house and down the street. He knew he wasn’t perfect. He knew that his frequently stumbling home drunk at four in the morning worried his mother, and in his better moments he felt bad about it.

But Lorenzo wasn’t perfect either. What about that time he’d had an affair with Lucrezia Donati knowing full well that she was married? But Lucrezia de’ Medici didn’t know about that. Because Giuliano was a good brother and had kept Lorenzo’s secret.

And what a good brother Lorenzo had been to him just now, sitting there and nodding sagely as their mother scolded Giuliano for his behavior. _She’s right. You’re not a teenager anymore, you really should start acting more responsibly._

Giuliano kicked the wall of the nearest building in frustration and immediately regretted it as pain shot through his toes. He hobbled along in an even worse mood. He wasn’t really sure where he was going, he only knew that he couldn’t stand being in that house getting lectured for another second.

He knew he wasn’t a teenager anymore. But he was only twenty-five; surely he was still allowed a few more years of fun before settling down to boring adult life. Especially since the Medici were filthy rich, so it wasn’t like Giuliano needed to get out there and earn them even more money. And Lorenzo was in charge of the bank and was running things just fine without his help.

But that was how Lorenzo had been for years, ever since their father had died and Lorenzo had taken over as the bank’s president. Not wanting Giuliano’s help in bank matters because Giuliano would only get in the way (Lorenzo never said so, but Giuliano knew he was thinking it) and then having the audacity to lecture him for being irresponsible. As if Lorenzo wasn’t the very person who denied him any responsibilities in the family business.

Giuliano found himself in front of Santa Maria del Fiore and came to a halt, glowering up at the dome, too deep in his resentment to care about all the tourists jostling him. What he wouldn’t give to get back at Lorenzo somehow. And preferably annoy his mother too. Not that they weren’t both already annoyed by his general behavior, but still. Giuliano was feeling childish, and he wanted to do something to _really_ piss them off.

Just then someone bumped into him so hard that he stumbled, and an irritated and familiar voice said, “Watch where you’re going.”

“I wasn’t even moving,” Giuliano retorted, turning to see who it was. “Oh. Pazzi. I should’ve known.”

Francesco Pazzi’s scowl deepened when he realized it was Giuliano. “Of course you’re standing unmoving in the middle of the most crowded part of the city, getting in everyone’s way,” he said.

“Your fault for trying to walk through the most crowded part of the city in the middle of the day during peak tourist season.”

“Excuse me for fucking living here.” Francesco gave him one last glare and continued on his way.

But suddenly Giuliano had an idea. A crazy, idiotic, perfect idea for how to upset Lucrezia and Lorenzo simultaneously. _Especially_ Lorenzo.

“Wait, Pazzi!” he called, shouldering through the tourist horde to chase after Francesco.

Giuliano caught up to him in one of the streets leading off the piazza. “What now?” Francesco said impatiently.

“You hate my family, right?” Giuliano said.

Francesco raised an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

“How would you like to help me piss them off?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, I’m not too happy with them right now myself,” Giuliano said. “And I thought of a genius idea for making them mad, especially Lorenzo. One that involves you.”

“How so?” Francesco said, frowning.

“My idea,” Giuliano said, “was that I could pretend that you and I are dating.”

Francesco stared at him for a long moment, and then he burst out laughing. Giuliano didn’t think he’d ever heard him laugh before; hell, he’d hardly ever seen him _smile._ “Very funny, Medici,” Francesco said. “Now, if you’re done wasting my time—”

“Hey, come on, I’m serious,” Giuliano insisted. “Imagine how much they’d hate me dating a Pazzi, especially you.”

“Especially me?”

“Well, at least Guglielmo isn’t completely unpleasant to be around.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Francesco said, ignoring the insult. “Much as I dislike your family, there’s no way I’d subject myself to this kind of humiliation just for the sake of—”

“I’ll pay you,” Giuliano blurted out.

Francesco narrowed his eyes. “How much?”

“Uh…twenty euros each time you have to interact with my family.”

“Seventy.”

_“Seventy?”_

“I know you can afford it.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Sixty.”

“Thirty.”

“Fifty and that’s my final offer.”

“Fine,” Giuliano said, rolling his eyes; Francesco _did_ have a point about him being easily able to afford it. “So you’ll do it?”

Francesco looked at him, considering it. “Fine,” he said at last. “For one week.”

“No way, it has to be longer than that,” Giuliano protested. “We have to actually convince them we’re together, or else what’s the point?”

“Two weeks, then.”

“A month.”

Francesco sighed heavily. “Fine,” he repeated. “On the condition that I get to be the one to fake-dump you at the end of it.”

“Why?”

“It’s bad enough people will think I’m dating you, I don’t want them thinking you dumped me and broke my heart or some shit.”

“All right, then, for the sake of your ego I’ll allow you to dump me,” Giuliano said. “Any other conditions?”

“Not yet,” Francesco said. “A question, though. Why did you say that this would make ‘especially Lorenzo’ mad?”

Giuliano gulped, cursing himself for misspeaking. The truth was, Lorenzo had had a giant embarrassing crush on Francesco ever since he was about twelve, and Giuliano knew it would devastate him to think that Francesco was dating Giuliano. (Okay, maybe that was a little cruel, but Giuliano _would_ tell him it hadn’t been real…eventually. After he’d had his fun.)

“Um, no reason,” he lied. “I meant that I especially wanted to make Lorenzo mad, not that this plan would necessarily make him especially mad. I mean. It’ll make him mad, probably, but not more so than the rest of the family.”

“Okay…” Francesco said rather dubiously. “Well, I have to get going—”

“Wait, let’s exchange numbers first, we’ll have to talk more later to nail down the details.”

Pursing his lips, Francesco handed his phone over and took Giuliano’s. Giuliano typed his number in and saved his contact name as “Giuliano” with several heart emojis, which Francesco immediately deleted when he took his phone back. “I would like to maintain what little is left of my dignity, please,” he grumbled. “Goodbye.”

He marched off, and Giuliano turned back the opposite way to head home again, having to hold back laughter already at the mental image of the looks on his family’s faces when he told them he was dating Francesco Pazzi. Oh, this was going to be good.

* * *

Francesco really couldn’t say why he’d agreed to this scheme. He certainly didn’t need the money; he was rolling in it, especially since Jacopo had died last year and left his vast fortune to him and Guglielmo in addition to what they’d already inherited from their parents. And normally Francesco would do everything in his power to avoid the Medici.

He decided it must be because his desire to anger the Medici outweighed his desire to avoid them. Bianca probably wouldn’t care, as she’d never had a problem with the Pazzi—she and Guglielmo had been in love with each other since time immemorial, though they had yet to act on their feelings.

But Lucrezia, while she’d been fond of Francesco when he was a kid, had disliked him ever since that time, after Jacopo had taken him and Guglielmo in, when Francesco had gotten in a fight with Lorenzo at school and sent him home sporting a black eye and sobbing because Francesco had said he didn’t want to be friends anymore. Francesco had not been welcome at the Medici home since, not that Jacopo would have allowed him to go there anyway. So he doubted Lucrezia would be thrilled to hear that he was supposedly dating her younger son.

And then there was Lorenzo. Francesco wasn’t sure how Lorenzo felt about him. Francesco, for his part, hated him, and he assumed the feeling was mutual—how could it not be, after that fight they’d had as kids and how nasty Francesco and Jacopo had been to his family since then?—and yet Lorenzo was never anything but nice to him on the occasions they were forced to interact for bank business. But that was just how Lorenzo was. Francesco had never heard him say a bad word to anybody in all the years he’d known him, but that didn’t mean he genuinely liked every single person in the world. That would be absurd.

“So I was thinking,” Giuliano said after he’d invited himself over to Francesco’s apartment that weekend. It wasn’t big, but Francesco preferred it to the drafty old house he and Guglielmo had inherited from Jacopo. That place held too many memories, and few of them good; they’d both agreed they’d probably sell it soon.

“I didn’t know you knew how,” Francesco said, taking a sip of the coffee he had made for himself and decidedly not offered to Giuliano.

Giuliano put a hand on his heart. “Is that any way to talk to your fiancé?”

“Fiancé?”

“That was the idea I was about to tell you,” Giuliano said. “It would be all well and good to pretend we’re dating, but imagine if we told everyone we’ve been secretly dating for years and are now engaged? My mom would be _furious_ that I lied to her for years and got engaged without telling her.”

“Why don’t we go ahead and say we’re married?” Francesco said sarcastically.

“But if they asked to see a marriage license or something, we’d be screwed,” Giuliano said, as if he had already given this option some thought and discarded it. “No, engaged is the way to go.”

“Whatever,” Francesco said; he was already in it this far. “I hope you don’t expect me to buy you a ring.”

“Who says you were the one to propose?”

“You buy me a ring, then.”

“No way,” Giuliano said. “We don’t need a ring, we can just say neither of us wanted one. But we’ll have to decide who proposed.”

Francesco weighed the scenarios, trying to decide which was less embarrassing for him. “You proposed,” he said. The mental image of himself getting down on one knee and asking Giuliano de’ Medici to spend the rest of his life with him was horrifying, and the reverse very slightly less so.

“Okay,” Giuliano said. “I’ll tell my family on my own, so you don’t have to do anything right away. But I’m sure they’ll want you to come over for dinner or something pretty soon afterwards.”

“Great,” Francesco said, cursing himself for ever agreeing to this. Maybe he was just really bored, or hated himself, and that was why he’d agreed to something so stupid.

He invited Guglielmo out for lunch the next day so that he could explain the situation to him. He hadn’t asked Giuliano if that was okay, but he trusted Guglielmo to keep his mouth shut until all this was over. And if he did blab to someone and the truth got out, Francesco didn’t really care. Giuliano was the one who had things riding on this ridiculous plan, Francesco was just a pawn.

“So I have a pretty crazy story to tell you,” Francesco said after their food had arrived. He launched into it, and by the time he finished Guglielmo was gaping at him.

“Why?” he said finally. “Why would you agree to that?”

Francesco shrugged. “I thought it’d be fun to piss the Medici off.”

“Seems like a pretty extreme way to do it,” Guglielmo observed. “Are you sure there wasn’t another reason?”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe you actually want an excuse to spend time with the Medici.”

Francesco snorted. “What? Of course I don’t.”

“You used to love them and vice versa. We were practically part of the family,” Guglielmo said a little wistfully. “So I thought, now that Uncle’s gone, maybe you wanted to renew that friendship.”

“Now you’re just talking about yourself,” Francesco said. “Uncle’s been dead for a year, just ask Bianca out already.”

Guglielmo blushed. “I—um—that’s not—”

“Please, you’ve been in love with her since we were kids. It’s obvious.”

“Well, maybe once your stunt with Giuliano is over, I’ll think about it,” Guglielmo said. “They’ll be surprised enough for one sibling to be dating a Pazzi, let alone a second. I mean, not that Bianca will say yes—”

“Of course she will, idiot,” Francesco said, rolling his eyes. “But fine, you go ahead and keep making excuses and let her get away.”

“You’re about to pretend to date someone you hate just to annoy his family, and I’m the one who’s making bad decisions in my love life?”

“This has nothing to do with my love life. It’s more of a business deal than anything. He’s paying me, you know.”

“What are you, a prostitute?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

* * *

“I have an announcement to make,” Giuliano said as they sat around the dinner table.

Lorenzo looked over at him and saw that he looked weirdly pleased with himself, and maybe a little mischievous. “What is it?” he said, reaching for his wineglass.

“I’ve been dating someone for a few years, but I never told any of you about it because I didn’t think you’d approve,” Giuliano said. “But we just got engaged, so I figured I’d better—”

Lorenzo choked on his wine, Bianca gasped, and Lucrezia dropped her fork with a clatter. _“What?”_ she demanded. “You’re _engaged?”_

“Yep,” Giuliano said, grinning.

“To _who?”_

“Francesco Pazzi.”

Lucrezia was staring at him like he’d just announced he was moving to Mars, and Bianca clapped her hands over her mouth. Lorenzo, meanwhile, suddenly felt like he was listening from very far away. “Francesco…Francesco Pazzi?” he said faintly. “You’re engaged to Francesco Pazzi?”

“Yeah,” Giuliano said. “See, I knew you wouldn’t approve of me dating him, so I didn’t want to tell any of you. But now I have to, obviously, so…”

There was a beat of silence, and then Lucrezia and Bianca both started shouting at once. Lorenzo couldn’t tell if it was angry-shouting or just surprised-shouting, because he couldn’t hear anything at all over the buzzing in his ears. Francesco. Giuliano. Francesco and Giuliano. Engaged.

 _You’re a Medici. I’m a Pazzi._ _We can’t be friends._

Yet now apparently Francesco not only didn’t mind being friends with a Medici, but was fine with marrying one. Maybe it wasn’t Lorenzo’s family name after all. Maybe it was Lorenzo himself who’d been the problem. Lorenzo himself Francesco hadn’t wanted to be around.

Stupid of him to think, for all these years, that Francesco might still come back to him someday. That Francesco might finally love him.

Mumbling an excuse, Lorenzo pushed his chair back from the table and strode off to his bedroom. He shut the door and flopped onto his bed, tears burning in the corners of his eyes. How could Giuliano do this to him? He knew how Lorenzo felt about Francesco.

Or…at least he’d known back when they were teenagers and he’d accidentally found a stack of love poems to Francesco in Lorenzo’s room. Giuliano had been sworn to secrecy by an utterly mortified Lorenzo, not that that had stopped him from teasing Lorenzo mercilessly for several years when no one else was in earshot.

But anyway, it had been a long time since Lorenzo had done anything as stupid and embarrassing as write love poems to Francesco and leave them around for anyone to find, so maybe Giuliano didn’t realize he still had feelings for him. Maybe Giuliano had assumed he’d long since moved on from his stupid teenage crush, like a normal person.

Unfortunately for Lorenzo, he hadn’t. He didn’t think he could ever get over Francesco. He’d tried, God, he’d tried so hard for so long, but his heart stubbornly refused to let go of him. No matter how long it had been since they were actually friends, no matter how many insults Francesco had paid him in the meantime. He was etched on Lorenzo’s soul, and Lorenzo didn’t think he would ever leave.

And that wasn’t Giuliano’s fault, and it wasn’t even Francesco’s, so how could Lorenzo resent them for being happy together? Lorenzo loved both of them, didn’t he? He wanted them to be happy, even if it was at the expense of his own happiness. Right?

He didn’t know how long it was before someone was knocking on the door and opening it. “Hey,” Giuliano said, taking a cautious step into the room. Lorenzo sat up and quickly wiped his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, just surprised,” Lorenzo said, doing his best to smile. “You and Francesco…”

Giuliano laughed. “Yeah.”

“Um…how long have you been together?” Lorenzo asked, hoping he sounded politely curious rather than on the verge of tears.

“Two years.”

He squinted a little to keep his eyes from watering. Two years. Two years Lorenzo had been cherishing the hope that Francesco might be warming up to him—particularly this past year since Jacopo’s death—and the whole time he’d been with Giuliano. Right under his nose. Lorenzo felt like such an _idiot._

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.

“Like I said, I thought you guys would be mad,” Giuliano said. “He’s a Pazzi.”

“You know _I_ never cared about the stupid feud.”

“I know, but he’s been kind of a dick to you in the past, so I thought you wouldn’t be thrilled I was dating him.”

“He’s been a dick to you too. And vice versa.”

“Yeah.” Giuliano smiled. “But we got past that.”

Lorenzo shook his head in disbelief. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t picture Giuliano and Francesco together. He thought of the past two years, trying to recall if he’d ever seen the two of them interact during that time, but he couldn’t. Well, even if he had seen them together, there must not have been anything out of the ordinary in the way they treated each other. Lorenzo would’ve noticed otherwise.

“Are you happy together?” Lorenzo said, not quite sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Yeah. Yeah, we really are.”

Lorenzo nodded, trying to smile and keep a fresh wave of tears at bay. “I’m glad.”

“Mom wants him to come over for dinner tomorrow,” Giuliano said.

Lorenzo’s stomach lurched. “So soon?” He wasn’t ready, he needed more time before he could handle seeing Francesco face-to-face while knowing he was engaged to his brother.

“Yeah, well, she’s pretty mad about the whole ‘got engaged without even telling her we were dating’ thing, so she’s determined to make up for lost time,” Giuliano said.

“Understandably mad,” Lorenzo said. “I can’t believe you kept this from us for two years, you’re such an asshole.”

He’d meant to say it playfully, but his voice cracked a little at the end and the words came out sounding more bitter than he wanted. For a second he saw guilt flash across Giuliano’s face. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have lied,” he said. “But no more lying from now on. I promise.”

* * *

“I have never told so many lies in my life,” Giuliano said. “At least not all in one sitting.”

“So did they react the way you wanted?” Francesco asked on the other end of the phone.

“Oh, yeah. And then some. They were really upset, especially Lorenzo.”

“Why especially Lorenzo?”

Giuliano mentally kicked himself; he really needed to stop saying that. “Oh, I don’t know, I guess since the two of us have always been so close,” he said. “I’ve never kept anything this big from him before.”

“You do realize it’s not actually true that we’re together, right?” Francesco said dryly.

“Duh. I was speaking from Lorenzo’s perspective.”

Giuliano had to admit, upsetting his family wasn’t as satisfying as he’d expected. Well, Lucrezia and Bianca’s utter shock and bewilderment had been pretty amusing, but the way Lorenzo had quickly left the room, the tears he’d tried to dry before Giuliano could see…Giuliano had felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

What kind of person got engaged to someone they knew full well their brother had feelings for? Or even fake engaged? In fact, it being fake somehow made it worse, because he was putting Lorenzo through this all for what was basically a joke. Yes, Lorenzo could be annoyingly holier-than-thou at times, but he didn’t deserve _this._

“Giuliano?”

“Huh?”

“I asked what time for dinner tomorrow,” Francesco said.

“Well, everyone will want to ask you a thousand questions before we eat, so you should probably get here early,” Giuliano said. “Six-thirty or seven, maybe, I’ll ask my mom.”

Francesco swore under his breath. “Why did I agree to this?”

“Hey, you’ll be fifty euros richer this time tomorrow.”

“Not worth it.”

Giuliano almost wanted to call the whole thing off, but he didn’t and hung up instead. He was in too deep now, his pride wouldn’t let him say _hey, just kidding!_ to his family at this point. No, he had to see this through, and then he and Francesco would stage a breakup and Lorenzo would feel better again.

And hey, maybe all this time Francesco would be spending at their house would cause him and Lorenzo to get closer. Really, Giuliano could be doing Lorenzo a favor.

Or, even better, maybe it would make Lorenzo finally, _finally_ realize that Francesco was an asshole, and he’d move on to someone who wouldn’t make Giuliano want to kill himself were they to become his sibling-in-law. Admiring him from afar for all these years was one thing, but Giuliano was confident that having a significant amount of actual interaction time with Francesco, the most disagreeable person on the planet, would put a stop to Lorenzo’s crush once and for all.


	2. Chapter 2

Francesco was inexplicably nervous as he knocked on the Medici’s front door. Probably because he was about to get grilled to within an inch of his life by Lucrezia. He ran through all the details he and Giuliano had agreed on regarding their dating history, praying he’d get them all right. Not that he really cared if Giuliano’s lie got found out, but it would be mortifying for them to know that Francesco had willingly gone along with it. Even more mortifying than them thinking he actually was in love with him.

Thankfully, it was Giuliano who answered the door. Francesco was pretty sure this was the first time in his life he’d been glad to see him. “Hey, you’re here,” he said. “Come in, everyone’s in the other room.”

Giuliano led him inside. Lucrezia, Bianca, and Lorenzo were all sitting together in the living room, but they stood up as Francesco entered and came over to him. To his surprise, Lucrezia hugged him. “Francesco, welcome,” she said. “I’m so glad you could come.”

Francesco remembered Giuliano saying that no matter how angry she was inside, Lucrezia never failed to maintain the façade of perfect politeness in front of guests, and he wondered if that was what she was doing now or if she genuinely was glad to see him. “Thank you for inviting me, signora,” he said.

“Lucrezia, please.” She let go and smiled at him. “After all, we’re going to be family soon enough.”

Francesco did his best to smile back, though the mere thought of actually marrying Giuliano made him feel nauseous. Bianca hugged him too, and then Lorenzo stepped forward.

For some reason, Francesco’s heart skipped a beat. As the presidents of two banks in the area, they spoke often via email or on the phone, but it had been at least a few months since Francesco had seen him in person. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him in casual clothes rather than work clothes. Francesco’s eyes traveled up and down his body as he observed that his button-down shirt and dark jeans fit him exactly right.

“Francesco,” Lorenzo said, and Francesco quickly looked back up to his face, praying he wasn’t visibly blushing. “Hi.”

Lorenzo stuck his hand out. “Hey,” Francesco said, shaking it and wondering what was the matter with him. Lorenzo had always been good-looking, that was simply an objective fact. But Francesco had never really _noticed_ it before.

Lorenzo smiled at him, and it was so infectious that Francesco automatically smiled back. Had Lorenzo’s eyes always been this blue?

“So, Francesco,” Lucrezia said, and Francesco dragged his attention back to the other people in the room. “Needless to say this is quite a surprise for all of us.”

“I can imagine,” Francesco said. Lorenzo went to sit in the chair he’d occupied previously, leaving Francesco to take the open spot next to Giuliano on the couch. He prayed Giuliano wouldn’t try to do something revolting like cuddle with him.

“How exactly did it all happen?” Lucrezia asked. “Giuliano told us a bit yesterday, but I have to say I would never have expected you two to end up together. You never seemed to get along.”

“Um…” Francesco glanced at Giuliano for help, but he just smiled innocently at him. “Well, we didn’t when we were younger, but we ran into each other again while he was at university and…” Francesco tried not to grit his teeth as he forced himself to say, “…sparks just flew, I guess.”

“Tell them more, Cesco, tell them _exactly_ why you fell for me,” Giuliano said with an infuriating smirk. Francesco’s nostrils flared. Nicknames had definitely not been a part of the deal.

“Well, he’s just so…” He struggled to think of a single positive adjective to describe Giuliano. “He’s the life of every party,” Francesco settled on at last, which was true, based on everything he knew or had heard about Giuliano.

“And you…like that?” Lorenzo said, raising his eyebrows.

Francesco couldn’t blame him for being surprised; personally his idea of a perfect night was curling up at home with a book and not having to interact with another human being for hours, and even now Lorenzo probably still knew him well enough to guess that. “Who doesn’t?” Francesco lied.

“You know what they say, opposites attract,” Giuliano said, throwing his arm around Francesco’s shoulders. Francesco was going to murder him.

“But Giuliano, I’m sure they’re not surprised that someone could fall in love with _you,”_ Francesco said. “What they really want to hear is what _you_ like about _me.”_

“But—”

“I _am_ curious, I have to admit. You have so many wonderful qualities of course, Francesco,” Lucrezia added diplomatically, and Francesco struggled not to roll his eyes, “it’s only that…”

“You’re not Giuliano’s type,” Lorenzo supplied rather bluntly. “At all.”

Lucrezia gave him a look, but Francesco didn’t take offense. On the contrary, he’d be offended if someone said he _was_ in line with Giuliano’s type. “Like I said. Opposites attract,” Giuliano said, but everyone was still looking expectantly at him, so he sighed and elaborated. “Well, first of all, those cheekbones.”

He poked Francesco’s face, and Francesco scowled and batted his hand away. Fortunately the other Medici all laughed, apparently thinking this was regular couple-y banter. “And you wouldn’t know it, but he’s a total softie,” Giuliano continued, grinning at him. “The first movie we watched together, it was something sad and he was crying by the end. It was adorable.”

“That’s _not_ true,” Francesco muttered.

Giuliano patted him on the back. “He doesn’t like to admit what a tender heart he’s got underneath all those thorns.”

Francesco gave him a death glare. “You’re one to talk after how much you cried when you proposed to me,” he said.

“What?” Giuliano spluttered. “I did n—”

“Oh, you should’ve seen him,” Francesco interrupted. The Medici were hanging on his every word and ignoring Giuliano’s protests. “He gave me this whole speech about how I’m so much better than he deserves and he can’t believe how lucky he is that I decided to be with him when I could be dating anyone I wanted—”

“That is not what I—”

“—and about how his life would be garbage without me, and by the time he actually asked me to marry him, he was crying so much he could barely get the words out,” Francesco finished smugly. “I would’ve had to be a monster to say no at that point.”

“Aww, Giuliano, I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” Bianca said, snickering.

Giuliano glared at her. “I’m _not,_ he’s exaggerating.”

“I swear I’m not.”

After everyone was done laughing at Giuliano, Lucrezia changed the subject. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Giuliano, but I wish you hadn’t lied to us for so long,” she said. “Did you really think we would mind you dating Francesco, to the extent that you felt you couldn’t even _tell_ us?”

“Well—”

“It’s my fault, really,” Francesco cut him off. “It wasn’t so much you all that we were worried about, it was Jacopo, I knew he’d be furious if he knew. And we thought it would be safest if no one knew, that way there wouldn’t be a risk of it getting back to him. So it was mostly for my sake that we didn’t tell anyone, and Giuliano didn’t like having to lie to you, I know it was really hard for him.”

“Oh,” Lucrezia said, looking mollified. “Well, that’s nice to hear.”

“Would you mind if I talked to my darling fiancé in private for a second?” Giuliano said, and he grabbed Francesco’s arm and dragged him into the other room.

“What?” Francesco said.

“What are you doing?” Giuliano hissed. “The whole point was to upset them by making them think I’d lied to them for years on purpose, stop saying I felt bad about it to make them less mad at me!”

“Some ungrateful fake fiancé you are,” Francesco said, smirking. “Here I am doing you a favor by smoothing things over with your family and taking all the blame—”

“That’s the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to be doing! I want things to be as un-smoothed-over as possible!” Giuliano complained. “And be more of an asshole, you’re being too polite and making too good an impression.”

“You never specified you wanted me to be an asshole.”

“I didn’t think I had to, since that’s your default behavior setting.”

Francesco rolled his eyes and went back out into the living room, and Giuliano followed. “Francesco, how is your brother?” Bianca said in a would-be casual tone.

“Good,” Francesco said. “He told me to say hello to you.”

Bianca blushed. “He did?”

“Yes, as soon as he heard I was coming here tonight.”

“Oh,” Bianca said, beaming. “Well, tell him I say hello too.”

“I will.” Making a mental note to continue bothering Guglielmo to ask her out and put everyone out of their misery, Francesco turned to Lucrezia. “Signora—um, Lucrezia, your home is lovely,” he said, and Giuliano gave him an exasperated look at his continued politeness. “And just the way I remember it.”

Indeed, as he looked around the living room, he could almost see his and Lorenzo’s younger selves running around chasing each other with plastic swords, jumping from couch to couch to avoid falling in the lava, sitting at the window and making up elaborate backstories about all the people walking by, drawing pictures together at the coffee table. Francesco’s heart hurt all of a sudden and he found himself looking over at Lorenzo, whose expression had also turned nostalgic.

“How long has it been since you were last here?” Lucrezia was asking.

“A long time,” Francesco said. “Not since I was ten or eleven, I think.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right, before you and Lorenzo had that fight,” Lucrezia said, pursing her lips. “I’ll never forget how upset he was when he came home from school that day—”

“Mom, come on, that was twenty years ago,” Lorenzo said, looking embarrassed. “Just drop it.”

“No, it’s all right,” Francesco said. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. I’m…” He met Lorenzo’s eyes, again consumed with a sudden regret at their lost friendship. “I’m sorry, Lorenzo.”

It was one of the few truths he had told or would tell that night.

Lorenzo gave him a small smile. “It’s okay,” he said. “It was so long ago, we’ve both changed a lot since then. And now we’re going to be…” Was it Francesco’s imagination or did his smile suddenly look strained? “We’re going to be brothers.”

“Yes,” Francesco said. “Brothers.”

Lucrezia, while she’d been perfectly polite before, warmed up to him significantly after that apology and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly. Surprisingly pleasantly, Francesco thought as he sat at the dinner table listening to Bianca tease Giuliano about some embarrassing thing he’d done as a kid while Lorenzo and Lucrezia laughed and chimed in to add details she missed.

It reminded him of times he’d thought long-forgotten, of his childhood, of the happy nights he’d spent with Guglielmo and their parents, of all the times he’d stayed so long playing with Lorenzo that the Medici had had him stay for dinner with all of them. Was this what a family was supposed to be like?

“Oh, and do you remember when Francesco and Lorenzo had a fake wedding when they were…seven or eight, I think?” Bianca said.

Lorenzo turned a violent shade of red. “Bianca!”

“I forgot about that! It was adorable,” Lucrezia said, laughing. “They borrowed two of your dad’s suits and had a lovely little ceremony out in the garden—”

“Mom!”

“I don’t remember this at all,” Giuliano said, also grinning.

“You were too little, you must’ve been about four at the time,” Lucrezia said.

“You were the ring-bearer, though, they stole some plastic ones I had,” Bianca said. “And I officiated the ceremony.”

Lucrezia laughed again. “Oh, if only we’d known how differently things would turn out.”

“Mm-hmm,” Giuliano said. Francesco had made the mistake of letting his hand rest on the table next to him, and Giuliano grabbed it and brought it up to his mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. It took every ounce of willpower Francesco possessed not to curl his hand into a fist and punch him right in the face.

“I don’t know, sometimes I think I might’ve been better off marrying Lorenzo after all,” Francesco deadpanned, causing a fresh wave of laughter from everyone except Lorenzo, who had gone even redder.

But now that he was thinking about it…why was the thought of marrying Lorenzo not completely repulsive?

* * *

“That went very well,” Lucrezia said, pleased. “I did have my doubts, but thankfully they were unfounded. Francesco is just lovely, I’m so happy he’s joining the family.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Giuliano said, though Lorenzo could’ve sworn he looked rather put out.

“And how nice that he apologized to Lorenzo about that fight even though it was so long ago.”

“Well, you kind of forced him to by bringing it up,” Lorenzo pointed out.

“Still,” Lucrezia said. “It’s uncharitable to say, I know, but I think Jacopo being gone has been good for him. He was always such an awful influence on those poor boys.”

Lorenzo hummed in agreement, remembering as clearly as if it was yesterday the hatred in Francesco’s eyes when he’d looked at him after going to live with Jacopo. Before that he’d only ever looked at Lorenzo with affection, and the abrupt change had hurt more than the punch he’d given him.

But now it seemed like maybe they could be friends again. Lorenzo tried to be happy about it—he _was_ happy about it. He was overjoyed to be getting his best friend back. But he also knew that it wouldn’t be the same as when they were kids, because Francesco wasn’t his anymore, he was Giuliano’s. Gone were the days when Lorenzo could shut the door on Giuliano whining to play with them and keep Francesco’s attention all to himself. He could only ever be Francesco’s second favorite Medici at best.

And Lorenzo knew that was better, so much better, than nothing. But he was also selfish, and besides, he’d never been good at settling for second place.

On Tuesday, Lorenzo was at the bank checking in with his assistant. “And here’s the loan agreement with the Pazzi bank,” she said, patting a piece of paper on her desk. “All we need is Francesco Pazzi’s signature, I was just about to fax it over—”

“No need, I’ll run it over there in person,” Lorenzo said impulsively.

“But it’s on the other side of the city—”

“Oh, I have to run an errand nearby anyway,” he improvised. “So it’s no trouble for me to stop into the bank while I’m there.”

His assistant shrugged and handed the form over. “Okay then, if you’re sure.”

Lorenzo headed out. It was about a thirty-minute walk (and then another thirty minutes back), which was maybe not the most efficient use of his time during a work day, but Lorenzo promised himself he’d work extra hard when he got back to make up for it. When he arrived at the Pazzi bank, he stopped outside to gather his courage before going in. He’d been there a few times in the past to meet with Francesco and had been flustered on those occasions too, but he was even more nervous right now. Probably as Francesco had gone from “crush admired from afar” to “crush about to become brother-in-law” and Lorenzo did not know how to deal with it.

Lorenzo was led to Francesco’s office. Francesco looked up when he entered, clearly startled to see him. “Lorenzo, hi,” he said, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair.

Lorenzo stifled a lovesick sigh, wondering how he _still_ wasn’t used to how beautiful Francesco was. “Hey,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “Um, I brought the loan agreement for you to sign.”

Francesco got up from his desk and took it from him, then read it through and scrawled his signature across the bottom. “Thanks,” he said, handing it back. “What else?”

“That’s it.”

Francesco raised his eyebrows. “The president of the Medici bank personally came all the way here just to have me sign one very routine document?”

Lorenzo blushed, feeling like an idiot and regretting everything. “I was…I was running an errand nearby,” he said feebly.

“What errand?”

“Uh, I was shopping for…something for my mom’s birthday. It’s in a couple weeks.” _That_ was true, at least.

“In the middle of a work day?”

“Perks of being your own boss,” Lorenzo said, feeling pleased with himself when that made the corner of Francesco’s mouth quirk up.

“Well, then, I’ll let you get on with your shopping,” Francesco said.

But Lorenzo didn’t want to leave just yet, so he found himself saying, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“Um…” Why hadn’t he spent his thirty-minute walk thinking of something to actually talk to him about? “Everyone liked you at dinner the other night,” he said.

Francesco looked surprised. “Did they really, or are you just saying that to be nice?”

Lorenzo laughed. “They really did, I swear,” he said. “Honestly, I’m surprised you managed to win my mom’s approval so quickly after not telling her you were dating Giuliano all this time.”

Then again, Lucrezia had always been a bit of a mother hen, especially where the Pazzi children were concerned. Lorenzo remembered how she used go to his and Francesco’s soccer games and cheer them both on as if they were both her sons. And when she had sat between Francesco and Guglielmo at their parents’ funeral, her arms around both of them, holding them close against her as they cried and cried. How she’d fought with Jacopo to keep them at their house but had been unable to convince him to give up custody.

And in the subsequent years every time Lorenzo or Giuliano had come home from school with a story about how Francesco had been mean to them or another student, Lucrezia would get this look on her face, like she was struggling to reconcile such behavior with the sweet boy who had been almost a son to her for so many years. Like she blamed herself for letting Jacopo take him and corrupt him.

“So am I,” Francesco said, bringing Lorenzo out of his thoughts. “I always thought she didn’t like me very much.”

“Why?” Lorenzo asked.

“Well, I gave you a black eye.”

“True, she wasn’t very happy about that,” Lorenzo said with a chuckle. “But, you know…she always considered you a son when we were little. I think she’s glad to have you back in our lives.”

Francesco blinked several times and looked down at his shoes. “Oh.”

Lorenzo cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re busy, I’ll just—”

“What about you?” Francesco said suddenly.

“What about me?”

“Are you…are you glad I’m back in your life?”

Lorenzo gave him a soft smile. “Of course,” he said. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you all these years, Francesco.” _None at all._

“Really?” Francesco said, looking doubtful. “Even after how horrible I’ve been to you? I thought you would’ve hated me.”

“Nothing could make me hate you,” Lorenzo said before he could stop himself. “You were my best friend.”

Now Francesco was blinking again and avoiding his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking for a moment more like the kid Lorenzo had known so well than the adult he was starting to get to know once more.

“You were mine too,” Francesco quietly told the floor. “I’m sorry I let Jacopo turn me against you, I’m sorry for—for everything, I’m sorry—”

Lorenzo stepped closer and enveloped him in a hug, and Francesco stiffened in surprise and stuttered to a halt. Realizing this was maybe not a good idea, Lorenzo was about to let go and apologize when Francesco tentatively started hugging him back. Lorenzo closed his eyes and rested his chin on Francesco’s shoulder, letting out a breath and trying to make his heart stop beating so fast because he knew Francesco would be able to feel it.

“I’d like it if we could be friends again. I mean, I know Giuliano must be your—your number one person, your _best_ friend,” Lorenzo said, fighting to keep jealousy out of his tone, “but you and I can be friends too, if you want.”

“Yeah,” Francesco said after a slight pause. “I…I’d like that too.”

They let go of each other at last, and for a second they were still standing so close together. Lorenzo smiled at him, and Francesco bit his lip, but his eyes lit up in a way that told Lorenzo he was hiding a smile of his own. God, Lorenzo wanted to kiss him so badly, his heart hurt like a physical ache in his chest. But he couldn’t do that, Francesco was Giuliano’s fiancé, not his. It was Giuliano, not Lorenzo, who got to kiss him. _Not yours. Not yours. Not yours._

He forced himself to step back. “Well, I should head back to the bank,” he said, luckily managing to make his voice come out steady.

“Oh. Right,” Francesco said, taking a step back as well and dropping his gaze. “Thanks for coming by. I’ll see you later?”

“Definitely,” Lorenzo said, turning to go. He lingered in the doorway, giving Francesco one last glance; his back was to him as he went to sit back down at his desk. Lorenzo looked away and walked out of the bank, repeating two words over and over in his head like a mantra.

_Not yours. Not yours. Not yours._

* * *

_You have no idea how much I’ve missed you._

_Nothing could make me hate you._

Francesco cursed and rested his elbows on his desk, putting his head in his hands. He hated Giuliano so much. This was all his damn fault. Francesco had thought it would be a laugh to become involved in the Medici household only long enough to cause chaos before leaving again and going back to his life never to think about any of those people again, but now? Now he was having… _feelings._ And that was not good at all.

Why couldn’t Lorenzo have just faxed him over the fucking loan agreement like a normal person? Why did he have to come in here and get all sentimental about their childhood? And what was that nonsense about how Lucrezia used to think of him as a son and was glad he was part of their family again? Now Francesco felt bad for lying to her about being engaged to Giuliano, and it wasn’t even his idea or fault.

And then there was Lorenzo. Stupid, beautiful Lorenzo with his stupid perfect face and his stupid kind heart. Francesco hated how much he didn’t hate him. Hated himself for that moment of weakness when he’d admitted to him that he missed being friends and wanted to be friends again.

Yet at the same time…it felt _good._ It felt good to have apologized to Lorenzo for all the times he’d hurt him, it felt good to finally mend that bridge. It felt good to have Lorenzo back in his life. Lorenzo, his one-time best friend whom Francesco had tried to hate so aggressively only because he’d loved him so much.

But then Francesco reminded himself that this was only temporary. Less than a month left of his fake engagement to Giuliano, and then Francesco would fake dump him and the Medici would never want to see him again because they’d be furious at him for fake breaking Giuliano’s heart. Either that or Giuliano would confess to them that it had all been a joke, in which case they’d be furious at Francesco for lying to them about something so serious.

Francesco tried to tell himself he was looking forward to that day. Tried to pretend he wanted the Medici to go back to hating him so that he could go back to hating them and all would be as it should be again. But then he remembered the way Lorenzo had smiled at him, the way it had felt to have his arms around him, to hold him close…

Francesco gave his head a shake and pulled up some spreadsheets on his computer, trying to focus on work and forget all about Lorenzo and the Medici. Which was easier said than done.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks passed, and Francesco was invited to spend time with the Medici more often than he’d expected. And more often than Giuliano had expected too, judging by how much he complained each time he shelled out fifty more euros for Francesco’s good behavior.

Francesco’s good behavior was another source of complaint, as Giuliano wanted his family to be annoyed that he was supposedly marrying him and instead the opposite was happening. Bianca chattered excitedly about wedding plans every time they saw each other, Lucrezia came by his apartment one Saturday to give him freshly-baked cookies (Francesco hadn’t even told her where he lived), and Lorenzo was treating him like their childhood friendship had been continuing uninterrupted for the past twenty years.

Francesco told himself he was only being nice to the Medici because he wanted to annoy Giuliano by foiling his plans, but the truth was, he just couldn’t bring himself to reject the undeserved kindness they were showering on him. It had been so long since he’d felt like part of such a big and loving family, and he didn’t want the feeling to go away.

The weekend before his and Giuliano’s planned breakup, Francesco and Guglielmo were both invited to the Medici home for Lucrezia’s birthday dinner. “So how’s your fake engagement going?” Guglielmo asked as they walked over together.

“Fine, and if you say anything about it being fake while we’re there, I’ll tell Bianca you’re in love with her,” Francesco said.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, I absolutely would.”

Guglielmo promised to keep his lips sealed, and a minute later they arrived. “Welcome, both of you,” Lucrezia said, hugging them. “It’s so good to see you, Guglielmo, it’s been so long!”

“You too, Signora de Medici,” Guglielmo said. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, and call me Lucrezia.”

Francesco held out the wrapped gift he’d gotten her, a beautiful pair of earrings which he hadn’t even asked Giuliano to reimburse him for because he genuinely wanted to give Lucrezia a nice birthday present. “Happy birthday, Lucrezia,” he said.

She smiled and took the box from him. “Oh, Francesco, you shouldn’t have.”

“It was the least I could do after you’ve been so welcoming to me,” Francesco said.

Lucrezia kissed him on the cheek. “We’re all glad to have you back in the family,” she said, again making Francesco feel like an asshole for lying to her. “And you too, Guglielmo.”

“Oh,” Guglielmo said, startled but pleased. “Thank you.”

She ushered them inside and went to put the gift with the others, and Francesco and Guglielmo discovered that “birthday dinner” had been a bit of an understatement: the entire ground floor and the garden were packed with guests, some Francesco recognized as friends and relatives of the Medici and others he didn’t know.

“Maybe you should just actually marry Giuliano,” Guglielmo said. “Lucrezia seems very excited to have you as a son-in-law.”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, though. Don’t you feel bad for getting her hopes up?”

“None of this was my idea, it’s Giuliano’s fault,” Francesco said, avoiding the question.

Guglielmo shrugged. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.”

They went into the kitchen to grab a drink, and then they went back out to the living room to look around for people they knew.

“Guglielmo! Hey!”

They both turned, and Francesco watched Guglielmo’s entire face light up when he saw Bianca coming towards them. “Hi, Bianca,” he said, smiling at her. “How are you?”

She smiled back. “Good, you?”

“Good.”

“I’m going to go find Lo—Giuliano,” Francesco quickly corrected himself. “I’ll see you later.”

But they were already deep in conversation and hardly noticed his departure. Francesco had only taken a few steps away when someone behind him was saying, “So when do you think one of them will finally make a move?”

He turned and saw Lorenzo, and he couldn’t stop a smile from breaking out across his face, one that only widened when Lorenzo smiled back. “Hopefully soon, or else I’ll do it for them,” he said, and Lorenzo laughed.

“It’s good to see you,” Lorenzo said, as if they hadn’t been seeing each other constantly for three weeks. “I’m glad you could come.”

“Me too.” Figuring he’d better keep up appearances, Francesco said, “Have you seen Giuliano?”

Lorenzo’s smile slipped a little. “Yeah, I saw him outside talking to someone a minute ago.”

“Oh.” Francesco knew he should go look for him, but instead he said, “Well, I’m sure he’ll find me eventually.” And Lorenzo’s smile brightened again.

They chatted for a while. Francesco started telling a story about something that had happened at the bank recently; it was only somewhat funny, but Lorenzo couldn’t stop laughing, and his laugh was so warm and beautiful that Francesco couldn’t stop smiling either. For a moment he was sure that there was no better feeling in the world than making Lorenzo laugh.

“Stop, this is too much,” Lorenzo was saying through his laughter, reaching out and touching Francesco’s arm.

Even through his shirt it felt like Lorenzo’s touch was burning him. Francesco swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and his heartbeat speeding up—

“Hey, Cesco!”

Scowling, Francesco turned and saw Giuliano walking over to them. Lorenzo quickly dropped his hand and stepped back. “Call me that again and I’ll kill you,” Francesco said.

“Hello to you too, _darling,”_ Giuliano said sarcastically. “Enjoying the party?”

Francesco just barely managed to stop himself from saying, _I was until you showed up._ “Yes,” he said.

“Sorry, I’m just going to borrow him for a minute,” Giuliano told Lorenzo, and he grabbed Francesco’s hand and tugged him away.

“What do you want?” Francesco said impatiently once they were on the other side of the room.

“We want everyone to believe we’re in love, so could you please stop flirting with my brother?” Giuliano said, quietly enough that their conversation was masked by everyone else talking around them.

Francesco felt his cheeks heating up. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t flirting with him!” he stammered.

Giuliano rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t care what you two get up to after this is all over,” he said. “But until the end of the month, you’re _my_ fake fiancé and you could at least do me the courtesy of respecting the sanctity of our fake engagement.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ—”

“Also, my family likes you too much, so you have to do something really douchey tonight,” Giuliano said. “Hey, actually, maybe blatantly flirting with Lorenzo would do the trick, if my mom saw that she would flip—”

“No,” Francesco said suddenly. “No, I’m not doing anything douchey tonight, Giuliano, it’s your mother’s birthday.”

“So?”

“So, you want to upset her on her birthday just because you’re annoyed at her and Lorenzo for whatever petty reason?” Francesco said, getting angrier as he spoke. “Fuck you, honestly, you have this—this amazing family who loves you and you’re treating them like shit for no reason.”

Giuliano scoffed. “Oh, yes, poor you, your parents died, we know. Guess what, my dad’s dead too, you’re not special.”

Francesco’s jaw tightened, and next thing he knew he was throwing his drink in Giuliano’s face.

“Fuck you,” he said, his voice shaking. “Fuck you.”

And he slammed the empty wineglass down on a nearby side table and stalked away, leaving Giuliano spluttering in astonishment and the people nearest them gasping and staring.

* * *

Lorenzo’s jaw dropped as he watched Francesco storming off. His instinct was to go to him, but he knew it would look weird if he chased after his brother’s fiancé post-argument rather than going to see if Giuliano was all right. So he did just that, and even grabbed a towel from the bathroom for good measure.

“What happened?” he asked as Giuliano did his best to dry himself off.

“He’s got a hell of a temper is what happened,” Giuliano muttered. But then he sighed. “It was my fault, though, I was being a dick.”

“What’d you say?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Lorenzo found himself thinking of how Giuliano had walked over right at the exact moment he’d had his hand on Francesco’s arm, how he’d tersely interrupted them and dragged Francesco away. Was this Lorenzo’s fault? Was he causing problems in his brother’s relationship just because he had a crush he didn’t know how to deal with?

“Are you guys going to be okay?” he said anxiously. “How serious a fight was it?”

Giuliano waved a hand. “We’ll be fine, we fight all the time.”

“You do?”

“Oh yeah. Have you met either of us? Fire and oil.”

“That doesn’t really sound like the recipe for a healthy marriage,” Lorenzo said, unable to help it.

Giuliano raised his eyebrows. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing,” Lorenzo said. “Just that I don’t want you to rush into this and end up getting hurt.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, you should go find him and talk to him, clear things up.”

Giuliano studied him for a moment before saying, “Actually, I think _you_ should.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I know he’d rather talk to you right now.”

“But—”

“I have to go change shirts anyway,” Giuliano said. “I’ll see you later.”

Lorenzo helplessly watched him walk away before obediently making his way through the house, looking for Francesco. He couldn’t find him anywhere downstairs, so he went upstairs. He ran into Giuliano coming out of his room with a clean shirt and peeked inside, but Francesco wasn’t there. Lorenzo checked the other bedrooms before pushing open the door to his own.

To his surprise, Francesco was sitting on his bed. “Lorenzo,” he said, quickly standing up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have come in here—”

“No, it’s okay,” Lorenzo said, stepping inside and shutting the door. “I’m surprised you remembered where my room was.”

“How could I forget?” Francesco smiled slightly. “The amount of time I’ve spent in here…”

Lorenzo smiled too and went to sit down on the bed, and Francesco sat back down as well. “So…are you okay?” Lorenzo asked. “I saw that fight, but Giuliano wouldn’t tell me what it was about. He asked me to check on you, said you wouldn’t want to talk to him right now.”

“I’m fine.”

Lorenzo looked expectantly at him, and Francesco stubbornly kept his mouth shut, and they silently battled it out for a few minutes before Francesco cracked and said, “I guess I didn’t realize until recently how much I miss—how much I miss having a family. A proper one. And…sometimes it feels like Giuliano takes for granted what a wonderful family he has, and it pisses me off. That’s all the fight was about.”

Without thinking, Lorenzo put his arm around his shoulders. “Hey,” he said softly. “You do have a family. Us, all of us. We’re your family now too, Cesco.”

The childhood nickname slipped out unintentionally and Lorenzo bit his lip, remembering how Francesco had bitten Giuliano’s head off for calling him that. But now Francesco only smiled. “Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot. Really.”

After a minute of comfortable silence, Lorenzo realized his arm was still around Francesco, realized they were sitting pressed close together. Realized that Francesco was not objecting to either of these facts. Realized that Francesco was gazing into his eyes with an expression Lorenzo had never seen on him before, scared and hopeful all at once.

Lorenzo leaned closer, his heart pounding. Francesco leaned closer too. Lorenzo could feel his breath on his lips.

And then Lorenzo heard that mantra again in his head. _Not yours. Not yours. Not yours._

He quickly turned his head away, letting go of Francesco and getting to his feet without looking at him. “Well, we should head back downstairs,” he said. “I’m sure Giuliano is wondering where you are.”

“Oh. Right, yes,” Francesco said. Lorenzo couldn’t tell how he was feeling based on his tone of voice alone, and he didn’t dare turn around to look at him. Instead he hurried out of the room without waiting for Francesco to follow.

* * *

Francesco let out a shaky breath as he watched Lorenzo quickly walking away, his heart still pounding wildly. What the hell was that? Lorenzo had almost kissed him…and Francesco had _wanted_ him to. Was disappointed that he hadn’t.

Francesco sat there for a minute, gazing absently around the room as he tried to collect himself. Lorenzo’s bedroom was mostly different now, more adult, than it had been when they were children. Yet there were still little sparks of familiarity here and there, bits of childhood memorabilia Lorenzo had kept that Francesco remembered from all the times he’d been in this room twenty years ago. There was even a photo of the two of them pre-fight, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders and grinning at the camera after their team had won a soccer game.

In a way, Lorenzo was like this room. Different and familiar at the same time. At his core he was still that same best friend Francesco remembered, but there was also something new and so intoxicating about him. And Francesco wasn’t quite sure how to deal with this version of Lorenzo.

Sighing, Francesco stood up and went downstairs, both hoping and worrying that he would run into Lorenzo. He was thus both disappointed and relieved when he found Giuliano instead. “Hey,” Giuliano said. “I wanted to apologize for what I said, it was really shitty. I’m sorry.”

Francesco blinked in surprise; he didn’t think he’d ever heard Giuliano apologize in his life, at least not to him. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry I threw wine at you.”

“Can’t blame you. I would’ve punched me if I was you.”

“I thought about it, but I didn’t want your family to think you’re in an abusive relationship.”

Giuliano laughed. “Well, people are staring at us and trying to pretend they’re not, so we should probably hug it out.”

Francesco rolled his eyes but obligingly hugged him. And over Giuliano’s shoulder he saw Lorenzo watching them on the other side of the room, a heartbroken expression on his face. But Lorenzo looked away when their eyes met, quickly turning to the person beside him to start a conversation.

Giuliano let go of him. “And I was thinking about what you said, and I realized you’re right,” he said. An apology _and_ an admission that Francesco was right? Francesco glanced out the window to see if the apocalypse had arrived, but all looked normal. “This whole plan _was_ kind of a shitty thing to do to my family, so if you want to call it off now, I’m fine with that. I mean, not _right_ now, seeing as it’s my mom’s birthday and we’ve already caused enough of a scene, but after the party.”

Now Francesco was faced with a dilemma. Weeks ago he would’ve jumped at the chance to get out of this scheme early, but now…He thought about how Lucrezia had hugged and kissed him when he’d arrived tonight. He looked over to where Bianca and Guglielmo were still absorbed in conversation, looking at each other like no one else existed.

And he thought about Lorenzo. He thought about Lorenzo’s stupid perfect face and his stupid kind heart. Lorenzo, who had happily forgiven him for everything and let the two of them start over with a clean slate. Lorenzo, his best friend. Lorenzo, who had almost kissed him. Lorenzo, the person he now realized he couldn’t live without and couldn’t understand how he’d done it for so long.

Francesco knew that things would be easier, obviously, if Lorenzo wasn’t under the impression that he was engaged to his brother. But what if he was angry when he found out Francesco had lied? What if he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore? What if the entire Medici family didn’t want anything to do with him? They were already giving Francesco a second chance, would they really be willing to give him a third?

So he looked back at Giuliano and said in a would-be casual tone, “No, that’s okay, we can keep going with this for longer.”

Giuliano gave him an uncannily knowing look. “Well, all right, then,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

“What were you even mad at them about in the first place?” Francesco asked, changing the subject.

He listened as Giuliano explained everything about how Lorenzo wouldn’t let him help at the bank, how he and Lucrezia always lectured him for being irresponsible even though they wouldn’t let him have responsibilities. “Have you ever actually _asked_ Lorenzo if you can help at the bank?” Francesco said.

“Of course I…” Giuliano paused, frowning. “Actually…no, not explicitly,” he said. “But if he wanted my help he would’ve asked me by now—”

“He’s not a mind-reader,” Francesco said. “You act like you’re perfectly happy spending your time drinking and partying, Lorenzo probably thinks you don’t _want_ to help at the bank.”

“I guess that’s possible,” Giuliano said.

“Just talk to him, tell him you want to start working there. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you.”

“Huh. Maybe I will.” Giuliano clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Best fake fiancé ever,” he said, and Francesco rolled his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

A week passed, then a month. Francesco kept dragging his feet and coming up with excuses not to stage their breakup yet, and Giuliano just shrugged and let him. _“I_ don’t mind continuing to have a fiancé,” he said. “It makes me look like a real adult. Keeps my mom from asking me when I’m going to get serious and make something of my life.”

Though he did report that he’d asked Lorenzo about working in the bank and Lorenzo had seemed thrilled to see him taking initiative and offered him a job right away (entry-level, but still). “I told you so,” Francesco said smugly.

In August the Medici invited Francesco and Guglielmo to come with them to Sardinia for two weeks; they had a house there, because of course they did. (The Pazzi only had a summer house in the mountains, because the beach and fun were two of the few things Jacopo had hated more than he’d loved showing off his wealth.)

“Since you and Guglielmo are both coming, I asked Lorenzo if he had any girlfriend or boyfriend he wanted to invite, but he said no,” Lucrezia told Francesco conspiratorially on the ferry over.

“Oh,” Francesco said, trying not to look too interested in this information. And also trying not to laugh at how Lucrezia (along with everyone else) apparently already considered Guglielmo Bianca’s boyfriend even though the two of them kept insisting they were just friends.

“But I have to say I’m surprised,” Lucrezia continued. “It’s not like him to be single for so long, it seems like he’s always seeing _someone_ or other.”

Francesco looked over to where Lorenzo was making an exasperated Giuliano take pictures of him from several different angles, as if he didn’t look flawless from every single angle in any lighting. He was more beautiful than the goddamn Mediterranean behind him. It was absurd.

Francesco let himself stare a little longer, since he was wearing sunglasses so Lorenzo wouldn’t be able to tell he was looking at him, before turning his attention back to Lucrezia. “Maybe he’s focusing on work right now,” he suggested.

“Yes…” she mused. “But lately he’s seemed a little…off. I don’t know if I would go so far as to say unhappy, but definitely quieter than usual. I’ve been wondering if something’s going on with him, has he mentioned anything to you?”

Maybe he had feelings for his brother’s fake fiancé who, as far as Lorenzo knew, was very real. “No,” Francesco said. Which wasn’t _technically_ a lie, as Lorenzo had never said any of that out loud to him. It just wasn’t exactly hard for Francesco to guess, seeing as Lorenzo had almost kissed him and all.

Giuliano and Lorenzo started calling him over, so Lucrezia waved him off and Francesco went to join them. “Lorenzo wants a picture with you so he can post it on Instagram and prove to his three followers that he has friends,” Giuliano said.

“Shut up, I have more followers than you.”

“You do not!”

“Wanna bet?”

Francesco waited patiently as they both consulted their phones—it turned out Giuliano did indeed have more followers, and Francesco laughed at the affronted expression on Lorenzo’s face. “It’s only because he posts thirst traps every other day whereas I post _good_ pictures,” Lorenzo grumbled.

“Tell that to my extra seventy-nine followers.”

“Well, Lorenzo, you’ve got a hell of a lot more followers than me, if it makes you feel better,” Francesco said.

“That doesn’t even make sense, as you’re clearly the best-looking of the three of us,” Lorenzo said, then immediately turned bright red as Giuliano burst out laughing. Francesco wondered if he could pass off his own blush as a sunburn or if they hadn’t been outside long enough yet.

“Hands off, he’s taken,” Giuliano joked, which Francesco really felt was not necessary as Giuliano almost definitely knew that Lorenzo and Francesco had feelings for each other and now he was just fucking with them on purpose.

Giuliano took some selfies of the three of them, and then Francesco took pictures of him and Lorenzo, and then Lorenzo took pictures of Francesco and Giuliano. Giuliano gave him a mischievous smirk and then kissed him on the cheek for one picture, and Francesco was again glad he was wearing sunglasses so no one could see the irritation in his eyes.

Lorenzo was wearing sunglasses too, and Francesco wondered if he’d stopped smiling because he was busy concentrating on taking a good photo or if it was for another reason.

“Okay, now you two,” Giuliano said, and he started posing Francesco and Lorenzo against the railing of the ferry. “Closer, jeez, pretend you at least like each other. Oh, honestly, Lorenzo, you’re allowed to touch him, you know.”

“I thought someone told me ‘hands off,’” Lorenzo snarked back.

“I meant that metaphorically.” Giuliano grabbed Lorenzo’s arm and put it around Francesco’s waist and then vice versa. “Good, good. Closer…closer…clo—”

“Giuliano,” snapped Francesco, who was by now a terrible combination of flustered and annoyed.

“What? Just trying to make sure you both fit in the shot,” Giuliano said with a shit-eating grin that told Francesco he knew exactly what he was doing. “Excuse me for trying to take the perfect photo.”

“Careful, Giuliano, if it’s too perfect Francesco and I will _both_ surpass your follower count,” Lorenzo said, and Francesco laughed.

“Okay, got it,” Giuliano said, looking at Lorenzo’s phone in satisfaction.

“You didn’t even tell us you were taking it, we weren’t ready,” Francesco objected.

“Trust me, it came out great.”

Francesco grabbed the phone from him and took his sunglasses off to look at the picture. Giuliano had caught him mid-laugh, and Lorenzo had turned his head towards him and was smiling at him like he was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen. “Oh,” Francesco said, feeling all sorts of things he couldn’t quite name. “It’s—it’s okay, I guess.”

Lorenzo came to look at the picture over his shoulder, blushed, and mumbled some excuse about going to look for Bianca before taking his phone back and darting away. “A perfect shot,” Giuliano said, still grinning. “You’ll thank me one day when it ends up in the wedding slideshow.”

Francesco strongly considered pushing him overboard.

Luckily it wasn’t much longer before the ferry arrived, though Francesco then had to endure an awkward car ride with Giuliano and Lorenzo (no one had a car big enough for all six of them, so Giuliano and Lucrezia had both brought theirs). But at last they arrived at the house, and Francesco got his bag out of Giuliano’s trunk and followed him to their room.

“There’s only one bed,” he said in dismay.

“Wow, genius observation,” Giuliano said.

“I want it.”

“It’s _my_ room.”

“I’m your guest.”

“Well, I’m your host.”

“Yes, and as my host, you have to let me have the bed.”

“Why don’t you go ask Lorenzo? I’m sure he’d be happy to share.”

Francesco threw a pillow at him.

They ended up grumpily agreeing to share the bed, both because they were too stubborn to let the other have it and because Giuliano said his mother had a bad habit of coming into his room to wake him up whenever he slept too late (which was always) and it would look weird if one of them was sleeping on the floor, seeing as they were supposedly engaged and all. “Who knows?” Giuliano said. “Maybe it’ll be like in rom-coms when I wake up and see we started cuddling while we were sleeping, and then I gaze lovingly at you still asleep and realize I’m falling in love with you for real.”

“If you lay a single finger on me while I’m sleeping I _will_ murder you,” Francesco said.

Once everyone had unpacked and settled in, they trooped down to the beach. Francesco had been looking forward to going to the beach (“Surprising, I sort of thought you were a vampire,” Giuliano said) but he realized his foolishness when they got there and Lorenzo took off his shirt, revealing a body even more toned than Francesco had imagined. Not that he sat around imagining what Lorenzo would look like shirtless, obviously. But if he had _happened_ to do so once or twice, what he’d imagined didn’t hold a candle to the reality.

“Oh my God,” Francesco said. Out loud.

Fortunately, Giuliano was the only one close enough to hear. But he started laughing so hard that Lucrezia came over and asked with genuine concern if he was all right.

Francesco reluctantly took his own shirt off. He’d always felt pretty neutral about his appearance; he didn’t like it, but he wasn’t self-conscious either. Until now, when he was certain he would shrivel up and die if Lorenzo so much as looked at him.

Unfortunately for him, Lorenzo came right over to him and Giuliano with a bottle of sunscreen in hand. “Giuliano, can you do my back?” he said, holding it out.

“No, I’m going in the water,” Giuliano said. “Francesco can do it.”

“You need sunscreen, Giuliano!”

“I’ll be fine!”

“You burn even easier than I do!”

But Giuliano was already running towards the water, so Lorenzo sighed and turned to Francesco. “Um, do you mind?” he said, his cheeks turning a little pink. “Or I can go ask Bianca or—”

“No, I’ll do it,” Francesco said, taking the sunscreen from him.

He squirted a blob onto his hand as Lorenzo turned around, and then Francesco steeled himself and reached out to put his hand on his back. Lorenzo jumped slightly at the contact. “Sorry,” Francesco mumbled.

“It’s okay,” Lorenzo said a little breathlessly.

Francesco started rubbing the sunscreen in, his heart beating so loudly he was sure Lorenzo would be able to hear it. Lorenzo’s skin was so warm and smooth and perfect, his shoulders broad and muscular, and Francesco tried very hard to just do his job and not let his hands linger too long anywhere.

“Lower back too?” he said.

“Yeah, just everywhere, or else I’ll look like a tomato within an hour,” Lorenzo said with a rather nervous-sounding laugh. “Thanks.”

So Francesco went lower, his hands going dangerously close to the waistband of Lorenzo’s swim trunks. He was too flustered to rub it in as thoroughly as he should have, and soon he was withdrawing his hands and saying, “Okay, all set.”

“Thanks,” Lorenzo said again, turning around and giving him a small smile as he took the bottle back. “Do you want me to do you?”

Usually Francesco wasn’t as diligent with sunscreen as he knew he should be, but he found himself saying, “Yeah, sure.”

They switched places, and now Lorenzo’s hands were on his skin, rubbing sunscreen all over his back. Francesco closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling, savored the thrills that ran through him as Lorenzo worked his way down from his shoulders to his upper back, then lower and lower. At one point Francesco accidentally let out a contented sigh, which he prayed to all that was holy Lorenzo didn’t hear.

Much too soon Lorenzo’s hands were vanishing and he was saying he was all done. Francesco quickly opened his eyes. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Lorenzo said. Did his voice sound a little unsteady, or was that Francesco’s imagination? “Um, I’m going to go in the water now too, I guess. Coming?”

“Maybe in a little while,” Francesco said.

Lorenzo went to join Giuliano, and Francesco stretched out on his towel. And then put his sunglasses on so he could ogle Lorenzo from a distance in peace.

* * *

It was simultaneously the best and worst two weeks of Lorenzo’s life. On the one hand, he got to see much more of Francesco than he did normally. In multiple senses of the phrase, given how much time they spent at the beach. Two months had passed since Giuliano had first brought him home for dinner, and by now Francesco had completely warmed up to Lorenzo and seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with him. Seemed to genuinely consider him his friend.

And that was why it was also the worst two weeks, because Lorenzo had never been more in love with him than he was now, but Francesco was still Giuliano’s, not his. Every day he put on a smile and tried to pretend it wasn’t killing him inside to see them together, and every night he tried very hard not to think about what sorts of things they were getting up to in the bedroom right next to his. Particularly that one night he heard a loud thump coming from that room.

(What had actually happened was that Francesco had shoved Giuliano out of the bed and onto the floor during a fight over the blankets, but Lorenzo wouldn’t find that out until later.)

It was agonizing, having to watch the two of them together, to watch Giuliano have everything Lorenzo wanted, and know that this was how it was going to be for the rest of his life. Francesco was marrying his brother, and there was nothing Lorenzo could do about it. And yet…

They’d almost kissed. It was two months ago, but Lorenzo couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe Francesco had just decided it was easiest to pretend it had never happened, but…surely if he was completely committed to Giuliano and had no feelings for Lorenzo whatsoever, he would have told him so point-blank. He definitely wouldn’t have leaned towards him when Lorenzo was about to kiss him.

And even now, when Lorenzo would lightly flirt with him while hating himself for being such a horrible brother, Francesco seemed receptive. Maybe he was just being polite, or maybe he thought _Lorenzo_ was just being polite rather than flirty. But still. Lorenzo couldn’t figure out if this thing simmering between them was only in his head or if Francesco felt it too.

Add to that the complete illogicality of Francesco and Giuliano falling for each other, and Lorenzo was thoroughly confused. Giuliano had said it himself, they were like fire and oil. Their lifestyles and interests were totally different and incompatible, whereas their personalities were similar in all the worst ways. They were both stubborn, impulsive, hotheaded. Lorenzo just could not see a marriage between them working in the long run and part of him thought he should tell Giuliano so before he made the biggest mistake of his life, but another part of him was convinced he was subconsciously trying to sabotage their relationship so he could have Francesco.

Lorenzo was brooding about all this on the second to last night of the trip. It was late and he’d been tossing and turning for an hour, so finally he got out of bed and went to sit out on the veranda. He closed his eyes, letting the gentle breeze and the smell of the sea calm his thoughts.

It was ten, maybe fifteen minutes before he heard footsteps. “Oh, sorry,” a voice said. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Lorenzo’s heart jumped into his throat and he opened his eyes to see Francesco standing there. “You could never bother me, Francesco,” he said.

Francesco ducked his head, blushing slightly. “I didn’t think anyone else would be awake,” he said, coming to sit on the sofa beside him.

“Neither did I,” Lorenzo said. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah. Giuliano snores.”

Lorenzo let out a small huff of laughter even though his heart ached at yet another reminder that Francesco was with Giuliano. _Not yours, Lorenzo. Not yours._

“What’s keeping you up?” Francesco said next.

Lorenzo shrugged. “I don’t know. Just thinking.”

“What about?”

“I guess I was wondering…if things would have been different if we’d stayed friends,” Lorenzo said, not looking at him.

“Different how?” Francesco asked.

“Well…do you think you still would’ve ended up with Giuliano?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“I mean, I don’t know your relationship, obviously, but I thought maybe you wouldn’t have,” Lorenzo said in a rush. “When we were kids you only saw Giuliano as, like, the annoying little brother you had to put up with when you came over to play with me at our house. When we were kids it was me you liked the most, so I guess I thought, if we’d stayed friends for all this time, then maybe you would’ve grown up continuing to think of Giuliano only as an annoying little brother, and maybe—maybe things would have been different, and maybe you and I would—maybe we would have—”

“Lorenzo,” Francesco said softly, and it wasn’t until then that Lorenzo realized he was crying.

Feeling tears wet on his cheeks, he finally turned to look at Francesco, whose expression was unreadable. “I’m sorry,” Lorenzo said. “I’m sorry, Cesco, you shouldn’t have to deal with this shit, it’s my problem, not yours. I—I’m glad you and Giuliano are happy. Really, I am. I just—I’m going to need a little more time to heal, that’s all. But I want you to be happy.”

His voice cracked and fresh tears welled up in his eyes and started spilling over. He was sure Francesco was going to get angry at this almost-confession, was going to yell at him and then walk away and never want to see him again. But he didn’t. He just looked at him for a long, long moment, not saying anything.

And then he reached out and took Lorenzo’s face in his hands, brushing his tears away with his thumbs. “Lorenzo,” he said, more gently, more tenderly than Lorenzo had ever heard him speak. “Lorenzo, you’ve got it all wrong. All wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo whispered.

Francesco leaned forward until their foreheads were resting against each other, their noses touching. For a moment they stayed like that, both waiting to see what the other would do. Lorenzo didn’t know who acted first, but the next thing he knew, they were kissing.

Lorenzo felt like he could cry again, whether from sorrow or joy or confusion or guilt, he didn’t know. It was everything he’d ever wanted, and so much more. Francesco’s lips were slightly chapped, but soft and warm and so _perfect._ Lorenzo pulled him closer by the front of his shirt and devoured him with his lips and tongue, and Francesco kissed him back just as greedily, running his hands through Lorenzo’s hair.

But then Lorenzo remembered. _Not yours._

He pulled back with a gasp, and Francesco chased his lips to kiss him again. “Wait,” Lorenzo said. “Wait, Giuliano, we can’t—he’s my brother, I can’t—”

To his bewilderment, Francesco laughed. “He won’t mind,” he assured him. “I can tell you that for a fact.”

“What? But he—you—”

“Trust me, Lorenzo. It’s okay.”

Lorenzo didn’t see how this could possibly be okay with Giuliano—maybe they were in some sort of open relationship? But even then, surely he’d draw the line at his own brother making out with Francesco.

But Francesco was looking at him with pure desire burning in his dark eyes, and God, Lorenzo wanted to stop thinking and just keep kissing him. So he did.

* * *

Giuliano was surprised when he was the fourth person to arrive at breakfast rather than the sixth. “Is Francesco still sleeping?” Lucrezia said, also looking surprised.

“No, he was gone when I woke up,” Giuliano said. “Have you not seen him?”

“No.”

“Huh. He must’ve gone for a run or something,” Giuliano said, even though he was fairly certain that getting up early to go for a run wasn’t Francesco’s thing, and he felt he knew him pretty well at this point. He sat down and poured himself some coffee. “Where’s Lorenzo?”

“It looked like he was still asleep when I came down, his door was closed and the light was off,” Bianca said.

“It’s not like him to sleep so late,” Lucrezia said. “I’ll go wake him up, he won’t want to miss breakfast.”

She left, and Giuliano helped himself to some bread and jam. He was just about to take his first bite when he heard Lucrezia shriek in surprise from upstairs. He, Bianca, and Guglielmo all jumped and exchanged an alarmed look, then got up from the table and hurried up the stairs.

Giuliano got there first and skidded to a halt beside Lucrezia, who was standing in Lorenzo’s doorway with her hand over her mouth, looking utterly horrified. “Mom, what’s going—holy shit!”

Giuliano gaped in astonishment as he looked into Lorenzo’s room and saw a half-asleep and very guilty Lorenzo and a half-asleep and very mortified Francesco in bed together. The blankets were covering them, thank God, but even so Giuliano could tell they were both naked. The various articles of clothing carelessly tossed all over the floor also gave that away.

“Oh my God!” Bianca said shrilly, looking just as horrified as Lucrezia. “You two are—?”

“How could you do this?” Lucrezia demanded, moving from shock to anger. “The pair of you, how could you do this to Giuliano?”

“Lorenzo, what kind of a shitty brother—”

“—knew we shouldn’t have trusted you, Francesco, but I really thought you’d changed—”

“Giuliano, why are you laughing?!”

Because Giuliano had recovered from his shock and was now laughing hysterically, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “This is too good,” he gasped. “Oh my God.”

“What are you talking about?” Bianca said. “And Guglielmo, why are _you_ laughing?!”

“I’m not,” Guglielmo said, and he wasn’t, but he definitely _was_ fighting not to smile.

Giuliano tried to stop laughing long enough to explain everything before Lucrezia strangled Francesco with her bare hands. “You guys are misunderstanding the situation,” he said. “Francesco and I aren’t really together. The whole thing was a joke, we were faking it the entire time. See, I was annoyed at Mom and Lorenzo a couple months ago, so I convinced Francesco to pretend to be my fiancé to piss them off. Didn’t really work, though, you guys ended up liking him way too much.”

“Wait, what?” Lorenzo said. “You’re not really engaged?”

Giuliano stared at him. “You mean you slept with my fake fiancé _without knowing it was fake?”_

Lorenzo gulped. “Uh…”

“Lorenzo!”

“Well, Francesco did say you wouldn’t mind! He just didn’t explain _why.”_

“Francesco!”

“I was _going_ to tell him,” Francesco said. “I just, uh, didn’t want to take the time to go through the whole thing at, um, at that particular moment.”

Giuliano gagged. “Oh, gross.”

“Hold on,” Lucrezia said, looking bewildered. “What’s the situation?”

“Can you shut the door and let us put on some clothes, please?” Lorenzo said.

“God, yes, please,” Giuliano said, and he hastily shut the door and ushered everyone back downstairs.

Once Lorenzo and Francesco had joined them, Giuliano launched into a detailed explanation of the entire scheme. “In hindsight, this was maybe not my best idea,” he admitted when he was done.

“No _shit,”_ Lorenzo said. “You let me suffer for two months!”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” Giuliano said. “But it was a _little_ funny.”

“No, it wasn’t! Francesco, why didn’t _you_ ever tell me the truth?” Lorenzo asked, looking betrayed. “I thought…I thought you cared about me.”

“I do. And that’s why I didn’t tell you,” Francesco mumbled, staring down at his hands. “I thought you’d be mad if you knew I’d lied to you and I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me again. I didn’t want to lose you. All of you, actually.” He looked up at everyone. “Having a family like this…it felt good. So I convinced Giuliano to keep up the lie longer than we’d intended. Because…because I wanted to be a part of your family as long as I could.”

He looked so sad and pathetic that Giuliano didn’t even have the heart to make fun of him. There was a beat of silence, and then Lucrezia said, “Don’t be silly, Francesco. You don’t have to pretend to be marrying Giuliano to be part of our family. You always have been.”

Now Francesco was blinking back tears, and Lorenzo was hugging him and so was Bianca, and then Lucrezia and Guglielmo joined in, and Giuliano sighed and got up too and threw his arms around everyone. “Francesco, I have to admit,” Giuliano said, “before this whole thing, the thought of Lorenzo dating you made me want to shoot myself, but now…I guess you’re sort of okay.”

“Thanks,” Francesco said, his voice muffled by all the people hugging him. “You’re sort of okay too.”

Everyone let go of each other and went to sit back down. “So…I really can date him if I want?” Lorenzo asked Giuliano. “You’re definitely not together and never want to be?”

“Christ, no,” Giuliano said with a shudder. “He’s all yours.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Francesco said, though he was smiling.

“Nope.” Lorenzo smiled back at him and nuzzled his hair, which was sickening but also a little bit cute, not that Giuliano would’ve admitted it. “You’re mine now. No use fighting it.”

Giuliano grinned. “I can’t wait to get home and have everyone think you stole my fiancé. It’ll be the talk of Florence for months.”

“Oh, _great.”_


End file.
